The Claiming Deepens

His hands were on her again before her legs could steady, turning her, lifting her. He carried her from the bathroom not like a bride, but like a prize, his stride purposeful. The hallway mirror flashed her reflection—flushed, dripping, eyes wide with sated shock. He didn't take her to the bed. He took her to the living room floor, where morning light streamed in, and lowered himself over her, his cock already hard again against her thigh. The world wasn't the quiet aftermath; it was the storm deciding to circle back for more.